


Midnight Conversations

by hello_goodbi



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-22 10:34:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14306829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hello_goodbi/pseuds/hello_goodbi
Summary: A series of late-night conversations between Paul and John throughout their lives. There's no real plot to this, just random snapshots in time.





	1. 12:53 AM

_12:53 AM_

“Remind me to never let yeh have alcohol ever again, you fuckin’ lightweight,” John grumbled over the sounds of Paul laughing. John carefully led the younger boy to his bed, but made the mistake of assuming Paul could sit down by himself and seconds later a thundering crash was heard.

“Oops.” Paul could barely get the word out, he was laughing so hard, and though John was frustrated (and a little concerned, but he didn't _really_ want to let on to that) he couldn’t help but laugh a little too.

“Are yeh okay, Paulie?” John asked, kneeling down to help the younger man up.

“Yup,” Paul giggled, _very_ loudly, and John winced a little and sighed.

“It’s time for bed, Paulie. Yeh need sleep. Lots ‘n lots of sleep.”

“But I don’t _wanna_ ,” Paul whined, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. “I wanna party all day everyday forever! I wanna dance the night away, John Winston Lennon.” Paul started to get up, as though he was actually going to start dancing, and John gently pushed him back down onto the bed.

“Oh, Christ, we’re not doin’ this nonsense, are we?” John grumbled, still preventing Paul from getting up. “Yeh need sleep. Yeh do _not_ need to dance the night away, yeh do _not_ need to party.”

“Yeh’re like,” though Paul was slurring his words, it was obvious he was choosing them very, _very_ carefully, “a big, bad, ugly, mean, grumpy wolf.” Paul was still pouting, but lifted his arms when prompted as John gently tugged the younger boy’s shirt off.

“Thank yeh,” John said sincerely, giving Paul a sweatshirt that had not had several beers spilled on it. “I’m not goin’ to take yer pants off for yeh, so hopefully yeh can get that done yerself.”

“Thank yeh for helpin’ me,” Paul said, suddenly very quiet and very sincere.

“Of-of course, Paulie,” John responded, taken aback by the sudden and genuine kindness. “We’re friends, Macca. ‘S what I’m here for.” Grateful Paul had finally started to slow down - and also eager to get back to the party downstairs, where there was alcohol and birds - John pulled the covers over his friend.And then, as he turned to go, Paul whispered something so softly and quietly that John thought at first he’d misheard it.

“I love you.”

Suddenly John didn’t feel much like going back to the party. Yet, away he went, leaving a slumbering Paul to face the consequences of his desire to “party all day everyday forever!” the next morning.


	2. 2:12 AM

_2:12 AM_

“Why did yeh take me up here?” John grumbled, stepping out onto the roof of some abandoned warehouse that Paul had dragged him to down by the shipyards.

“The view,” Paul said, gesturing to the lights with the beer he had gripped in one hand, while handing another bottle to John. “Almost makes the city look pretty from up here, like.”

“I dunno, Paulie,” John laughed, sitting down at the edge of the building and letting his feet dangle. “Hard to make good ol’ Liverpool look nice from anywhere.” Paul chuckled his agreement but didn’t say anything more, and for a while they sat in silence, taking sips of their beers and watching the docks and the city below them. It was pretty up here, Paul thought, but John was the real beauty, his face lit with the dim glow of the city lights spread out below them. Paul shifted, swinging his legs back onto the roof of the warehouse and sitting criss-cross applesauce.

“Hello there, Macca,” John smirked, tossing his empty beer bottle off of the roof and turning to face Paul.

“Hi Johnny,” Paul said, voice shaking a little bit (because of the cold, John assumed, but in reality it was because Paul was horribly nervous).

“Is there somethin’ yeh want to say?” John said after a few seconds of slightly awkward silence, which Paul spent trying to memorize the way John’s hair fell just in case this conversation went badly and he never talked to the older boy again.

“Oh,” Paul said, a little startled. “Right. Um, yeh remember the party at yers a few weeks ago, right?” John chuckled a little at this, and the ball of nerves in Paul’s stomach untwisted itself a little bit.

“The one where I had to haul yeh upstairs n help yeh take yer shirt off?” he asked, an easy grin on his face, and Paul felt his cheeks grow a little hot with embarrassment.

“Yeah,” he sighed a little. “That one.”

“Of course I remember it. Why do yeh ask?”

“Did yeh happen to catch what I said when yeh walked out of yer bedroom?” Paul asked, voice small, as he nervously wrung his hands.

“Um,” John faltered a little bit. Yes, of _course_ he remembered, he didn’t want to forget even if he _could_ , but was that something he really wanted to admit to? He searched Paul’s eyes, hoping for any sign of how he was supposed to answer that question, but he found nothing except for anxiety. “Yeah,” he finally sighed, and Paul’s hand wringing managed to increase in speed _and_ the younger boy started to chew his lip. John suppressed his urge to reach out and grab Paul’s hands.

“And?” was all Paul could manage.

Silence. John again fought the urge to reach out and grab Paul’s hands, but this time there was also the urge to kiss him.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, John, I shouldn’t-”

“Oh, shut _up_ ,” John grumbled, and roughly grabbed the younger boy’s face and pulled it close and then they were _kissing_. They were _kissing_ , he was kissing _Paul_ , and once he got over his surprise Paul was kissing him _back_.

“Oh,” Paul whispered softly after John pulled away, his cheeks flushed and those perfect puppy-dog eyes wide.

“Oh,” John agreed, smirking, and then they were kissing again.


	3. 11:53

_11:53 PM_

“Johnny, it’s late. Yeh should be asleep, like,” Paul fussed, pointing the remote at the TV to pause the movie ( _Psycho_ , which had Paul squirming uncomfortably, but John _had_ requested it). “Yer ill, love, yeh need yer rest.”

“Sod off,” John grumbled. “‘M not sick, like.” Paul sighed and reached up to feel the older boy’s forehead and, as if on cue, John started to cough.

“Yer _ill_ , Johnny,” Paul whined a little, “ yeh’ve got a fever. Yeh need _rest_.”

“How the hell,” John sniffed, and Paul cringed a little in disgust, “do yeh know how to take care of a sick person? Yer a teenaged boy, ‘s not _right_ for yeh to know that, like.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Paul sighed. “Yeh should know how to take care of a sick person just because that’s bein’ a _decent human_.”

“Oh, come on,” John rolled his eyes and sneezed again. “Yeh can’t tell me that yeh just Googled ‘how to help an ill person’ out of the goodness of yer ‘eart.”

“Well of course not,” Paul said as he stood up, grabbing the empty popcorn bowl and several empty glasses John had left lying around. “But I have a younger brother. Yeh sort of learn these things when yeh have siblings, love.”

“Can we jus’ go back to watchin’, Paulie?” John asked, suddenly sounding very tired.

“Of course, John.” Paul bent over and pressed a kiss to John’s forehead. “Just let me run this stuff to the kitchen real quick, like.” He put the empty bowl and glasses in the sink, and dug around in the medicine cabinet for some NyQuil.

“Paulie,” John whined from the couch in the TV room, and Paul sighed.

“Here you are, love,” he said as he walked back in, dropping the pill in John’s hand. “This’ll help yeh sleep.”

“Don’t need yer bloody pills,” John protested as he downed the NyQuil. Paul flashed an _I-told-you-so_ smirk and sat down next to the older boy.

“Come ‘ere, love,” he said, lifting an arm up for John to lean against his side. Paul pressed play and less than fifteen minutes later John was asleep.

Paul couldn’t help but look down at the sleeping man lying in his arms and think he wanted this for the rest of his life.


	4. 1:14 AM

_1:14 AM_

“You _ass_ ,” Paul laughed, and heard John’s tinny chuckles on the other end of the phone line. It was late, they had school tomorrow, and Paul _should_ be asleep.

“Yeh have to admit, Paulie,” John said, the grin on his face obvious from his voice, “the old bird deserved it.”

“Mrs. Janson is a perfectly fine teacher.”

“She can’t teach literature to save her life!” John protested. “‘S only fair I rigged it so her book’d light on fire soon as she opened it.”

“She’s a twat, I’ll give yeh that,” Paul finally admitted, and a satisfied sigh could be heard form John. “But _fire_? Really?”

“Whole class thought it was fuckin’ hilarious,” Join pointed out. “Besides, it was jus’ one of those cheap magic kit tricks. Went out almost as soon as it got started.”

“I jus’ don’t want yeh to get caught,” Paul complained. “Yeh have four weeks of school left and I don’t want yeh gettin’ kicked out.”

“Yeh worry too much, Paulie,” John said reassuringly. “No way I’m gonna get kicked out. Mimi’d never let that happen.”

“I don’t know how much longer Mimi’s bribes are goin’ to work, John.” Paul could imagine the massive amounts of eye-rolling that must’ve been happening on John’s end of the line. “Yeh have one year left before uni.”

“Yeh worry so fuckin’ much. ‘M gonna- oh,  _shit_ , there’s Mimi,” John said hurriedly, and then there was the muffled sound of the phone being quickly hidden under a blanket.

“For crying out loud, John, it’s one in the morning. Who are you talking to?” Paul could barely make out the words, but he could make out the exasperation in Mimi’s voice and tried to hold back a laugh.

“Yer hearin’ things,” John said, yawning to add to the you-just-woke-me-up effect.

“Where’s yer phone?”

“Chargin’, Mimi, _God_ ,” John grumbled, and immediately Paul could picture the decoy phone that had to be sitting on John’s desk. “Can I go back to sleep now or are yeh goin’ to interrogate me more?” Mimi sighed - it must have been a _very loud_ sigh, if Paul was able to hear it through the phone - and left the room, shutting the door behind her. John waited a few seconds, and then Paul could hear the blankets being lifted off of the phone and John breathing.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Paulie.”

“No worries, love.”

“I should probably get off the phone now that she’s suspicious,” John said with a massive yawn.

“Probably, yeah.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Johnny.”

Neither of them hung up.

“John?” Paul whispered a few minutes later, to no response. “ _Johnny_ ,” Paul whispered, slightly louder this time, and all he got was heavy breathing. Paul chuckled softly, ended the call, and curled up to try and get some sleep.


End file.
